Dance Floors and VIP Rooms
by jayilyse
Summary: She's still smiling at you. God, what are you supposed to do? Think, Jane. Think. What do you do now? You're not quite sure why she's interested in you in the first place. You're not the best looker in town. You think of yourself as a "plain Jane" – literally. You're so awkward with this – the silence has gone on for far too long.


Clubs.

Clubs are _not_ your thing.

Why Jake English dragged you out here is complete and total mystery – one that even you can't solve. It could be that he wanted a friend with him as he became insanely popular among the ladies. It's his first time at a night club, as well as yours. He is much bolder than you, yet just as awkward. That could be the one of reasons why you're crushing on him – and why every other lady in this club is over here stroking his ego. Jane Crocker, you're not good with crushes, either. You're pretty sure that he knows and ignores it because he just wants to be friends. That's okay with you, though. Your crush is starting to die down anyway – it's been more than a couple years since it started, after all. You've resigned yourself to your fate. You're sitting next to Jake, or as close to Jake as you can with the mob that's around him, on a bar stool, looking outward toward the people on the dance floor. At least the music is decent here. No one is doing the kind of dancing you see on TV – you're pretty sure it's called dubbing, but you really don't care to know the name of it. You turn around toward the bar – you're not one for drinking too much either. Why the hell are you even here?

The day itself has been very long. You can't wait for it to end. Most of your day involved Jake bothering you in between your boring classes at college to go clubbing with him. You finally relented after the fifth phone call, which involved him whining and begging. You forgot he practically has your schedule memorized due to how often you guys hang out. After dragging yourself back to your dorm, you put on the only cocktail dress you own – the one you haven't worn since you bought it, and put on some wedges, as you took your purse out of the drawer. You just want this night to end. Is that so much to ask?

You sigh at the bar – you ask for two wine coolers. Jake is driving home tonight, so you indulge yourself to the point that you will probably reach your alcoholic limit soon enough – the equivalent of two Mike's Hard Lemonades. You try to figure out a way to make Jake take you home sooner rather than later. It doesn't seem likely with his new found harem. You take a sip of your drink. Gosh darn it, there has got to be some way to do it. You can't really think through the talking around you. The music isn't helping either. At least it's good music. If nothing else, you have that –

Wait. Wait one second. Who in the world is that?

A woman comes to the bar and sits a couple seats away from you – all you can think of is that she is breath taking. She's in a class of beauty that's all her own. You try not to look directly, instead using your peripheral vision to keep looking. The woman has platinum blonde hair – a striking difference from your own black hair. Her hair is slightly curled at the tips, framing her face, at least from the side, in a perfect way. Though you tried to tame yours, it didn't work too well. You turn your head a bit, trying to get a better look at her. You hear her voice – not quite shrill, but not that deep – ordering something called A Stanley Road Sunset. The bartender has it for her within minutes, and she downs it within seconds. Her dress is an in between shade of pink – not too bright, but not too dark. Yours is cyan blue. You giggle a bit in your head, thinking that it reminds you of cotton candy. She looks over to you, a quizzical expression trying to form itself, yet it turns into a smile instead.

Oh, fuck. Did you giggle out loud? She's looking at you now – just smile and wave, Jane. Smile and wave – Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, mother of fuck, _she's coming over_.

She sits down next to you, grinning, showing her bright white teeth. Perfect – not a buck tooth in sight. Her eyes – her eyes match her dress to the very last pigment. They're really pretty. It's hard to take your own eyes away from –

She clears her throat.

Well, then. You must have been staring.

Her smile turns into a knowing smirk. This must happen to her a lot. She begins to speak over the music.

"I haven't seen you here before. This club has a lot of regulars. Happen to have a name?"

Her words are slurred – she must've been drinking a lot. That's okay though, because you can still understand what she's saying. You're tempted to walk out of the club. You're tempted to stay and see how this goes. You really don't know what you want. You've always wanted to be like Jake – bold. You suppose that you'll give the latter a try.

"Jane Crocker."

You must be blushing all over – you can feel the heat radiating off your face. Or, maybe, the it could be how close this woman is leaning in to hear you above the noise.

"Jane, huh? I'm Roxy. Roxy Lalonde."

That's a rare name nowadays. It seems to suit her, for some reason. She's still smiling at you. God, what are you supposed to do? Think, Jane. Think. What do you do now? You're not quite sure why she's interested in you in the first place. You're not the best looker in town. You think of yourself as a "plain Jane" – literally. You're so awkward with this – the silence has gone on for far too long. You still don't know what to do. You look everywhere but at her. When you do meet her gaze, you can tell something's up. There's a mischievous glint in her eyes – although, she could have that look all the time. You would have no idea.

"Like the music here, Janey?"

You gulp.

"Uh, yes. Yes I do."

"Then why aren't you on the dance floor?"

I look toward Jake for a moment, and then back at her. She seems to get the hint.

"It's no fun to come to a club and not dance yanno." She says, her last words slurring and bunching together.

Roxy stands up, getting off the bar stool, and brushes her dress down a little bit. She looks toward the dance floor, and back to you. She holds her arm out, and offers you a hand. You give her a flummoxed look. What is she doing?

"Come on. Bust a move with me, Mizz Crocker." Roxy says with a wink.

Dance? You don't dance well. You really don't want to embarrass yourself – especially in front of her. This offer is once in a life time for you, though. That is, dancing with a beautiful woman and being in a club at the same time. Muster up some courage, Jane. Muster it. You smile a bit, trying not to show your buck teeth, and grab her hand while putting your purse around your shoulder. Roxy's hand is a tad sweaty – probably from the heat in the club. She pulls your arm as you try to push yourself off the bar stool – the combination of forces wind up making you bump into her. "Bump into her", meaning you're pressed up against her body now. She is a couple inches taller than you, so the side of your face is against her chest – almost in the crook of her neck. You stand back enough to try and stammer an apology. You look back, and you see Jake staring at you through his entourage. He waves and smiles like he knows exactly what's happening here. You look back at Roxy, and she's smirking again. She moves her head as if she was pointing with it. You get the hint – after all, you are the gutsiest gumshoe – and follow her. She still hasn't let go of your hand.

She leads you to a less crowded part of the dance floor. Not that there aren't people in this corner, it's just that less people are here than the amount in the middle of the dance floor. A song comes on that you are familiar with, and she has already started dancing. The way she moves her body is as stunning as her looks. You dance too; however, she notices how stiff you are. She closes the distance between you two, and cups your chin with her hand. You're pretty sure you're blushing – nope – yep, definitely blushing. She leans down and you shut your eyes.

"The key to dancing in a club is to dance like no one's watching."

Oh. She only whispered in your ear. She leans away and takes her hand off your chin, and offers you a grin. What were you expecting? Geez, Jane, talk about having you head in the clouds. The next song that comes on is one of your favorites, even though it's a remix. You try to loosen your limbs, and take Roxy's advice. You move your body this way and that. You might be more of an awkward dancer than you thought. It's okay, though. For some reason, you're having fun – you're not embarrassed like you usually would be. By the time the song is over you're giggling and laughing and twirling with Roxy – perhaps your alcoholic limit is kicking in. You sure are a lightweight. Every song, the two of you seem to get closer and closer together. A little more than four songs later, you two are so close you're practically touching. The music is really getting to you – you feel like this is too fun for its own good. The music is amazing, Roxy is amazing, and this night has suddenly turned into the best one you've had since college started. You feel like challenging the night – bring the rest of the night on. Try to make this night better, you think – after all, nothing_ could_ make this night better.

Of course, you could be wrong.

Since Roxy is so close, she doesn't have to talk too loud for you to hear it, even through the thumping bass blasting through the club's stereo.

"Want to go somewhere more private?"

You nod without thinking about it. Roxy beams at you, and grabs your hand – leading you to where she wants to go. Soon, what she said really hits you. Private…? What does she want to do? We had plenty of room on the dance floor. What else could the two of you do at a club?

After a moment or two, the both of you reach a room with a muscular guard at the door. The man immediately recognizes her, and lets both you and Roxy into the room. The room must be VIP, because it is decorated up to the nines. The black, leather, couches are empty, and you can hear the music in the background, albeit it's a little louder than usual background noise. The door closes, and she lets go of you to sit on a sofa. She taps the seat next to her, cluing you in that she wants you to sit down with her. All of a sudden, you're nervous. What is going on here? This room is so secluded. Despite your misgivings, you put your purse on the table in front of you, and sit down next to her. The minute you do, her head is on your shoulder. Your heart climbs into your throat.

"That was fun, right Mizz Crocker?"

You nod. You're as tense as you were before.

She notices it again – damn, she is too observant for her own good.

"Aw, lighten up Janey!"

Your hands are on your thighs – you have a grasp on them, but certainly not on this situation. You are in a private room with a gorgeous woman in a club. You never read books about people going to clubs – you only read things about it online, and you usually ex out of those because they aren't to your taste. You don't know what's supposed to happen next. Is there something that happens next? No, something has to happen next. Roxy takes her head off your shoulder, and you turn your head towards her. She's still looking at you. What do you want to do? For some odd reason, you're staring at her lips. You're shocked she only has lip gloss on and not pink lipstick to match her outfit. You don't really know what to say. You look her in the eye, and make an attempt to ask about what's going on, but you stop mid-sentence, as she leans in and kisses you on the cheek.

Your eyes widen. You're surprised that your face hasn't overheated by this point. She laughs – such a hearty and cheerful giggle – you can't help but smile – buck teeth and all. She starts to speak, though she is having trouble between the laughter.

"You're such a cutie – uber adorkable."

You turn your whole body around to her, and she mimics the action. You didn't expect this night to be this…well, good. You stare lowers down to her chest, which is smaller than yours – you force them back to her lips. After a bit, for some inexplicable reason they're getting closer and closer. Then the reason hits you like a ton of bricks.

Jane Crocker, you – not her – are leaning in for a kiss.

By the time you realize this, it's already too late to turn back. She saw what you were going for, and shut her eyes in anticipation. This is going to be your first kiss on the lips. You hope to God you aren't too terrible at it.

When your lips finally meet with hers, she takes over right away. Roxy wraps her arms around your neck, leans backwards, and pulls you down with her as she falls back on the couch. You let out a yelp of surprise, but melt right into the kiss when the motion is done. Your chest is against hers – your body against her body. You're not used to sounds of suction that happens when your lips smack together, then apart, and then back together – the sensation, without a doubt, is still amazing. It isn't all kissing is made out to be – fireworks aren't appearing before your very eyes. Nonetheless, there is a tingling sensation on your lips and a certain heat in your stomach. One of her hands moves itself to your lower back, and the other moves to your hair – rubbing and pulling ever so slightly. Shivers go down your spine until the kiss ends, both of you pulling apart. You have a hard time catching your breath after all is said and done – actually, kissed and done. She looks up at you with a half dazed look in her eyes. You probably have that same look. She gives you a wide smile as she says the unfortunate reality of the situation.

"We should probs get you back to your friend."

You can feel yourself pouting. She lets out a chuckle.

"I know. I don't want to go either. How about you give me your number?"

You smile and nod, giving Roxy a quick peck on her cheek. You forgot about the technological advancement known as a cell phone in the commotion. You get up as carefully as you can so that you don't hurt her, and grab your purse. You give her your number, and she gives you hers. When the both of you walk out of the room, Roxy leaves to the right, saying her car is closest to the exit on the side. You wave goodbye, and she sends you a kiss through the air. You catch it – grinning as she exits. Going back to where Jake was sitting before, you are not surprised to find him in that seat still. He spots you, and moves through his posse of women.

"Blimey, Jane! You took so long. I was about to go looking for you!"

"Oh, I'm fine Jake." Little does he know that you're _way_ more than fine.

"Great! It's around the time to start heading home. Agreed?"

You smile. You are very tired after the night's events. Jake says goodbye to all the girls that were surrounding him, and he takes out his keys. You follow – soon, you're at his car, opening the door and sliding into the front seat.

"So, did you have fun, Jane?"

"Mmhm."

"I had a rather good time as well. Care to come here again?"

You sit there, silent for a moment, contemplating how you should answer.

"I would love to."


End file.
